Suns

"Momma! Momma!"

I hear the screaming from down the hall.

"Just hold on, Hannah!"

I turn back to the mirror I was looking at. Getting ready in the morning almost never happens. But it never hurts to try, right?

I brush my teeth and wash my face. Something about it just makes me feel refreshed. I grab my hairbursh and start to attack this tangled mess, which is my hair.

So many knots from little hands grabbing and pulling. Daily messy buns don't really help either. Finally after a long 5 minutes, my hair is free and flowing.

"Momma! Come here! I gotta show you something!"

I sigh.

"Just give Momma a few more minutes, honey."

I decide to braid my hair to keep it out of my way. I tie it off and glance at my hairbrush.

What is that?! A gray hair? I'm barely in my thirties; how is this happening?

As I freak out, my 5 year old daughter comes to the bathroom door.

"Momma, I can't always wait for you. Please come see what I did!"

She grabs my hand, without waiting for a reply, and she drags me out of the bathroom and towards her bedroom.

As we enter her room, I look at the dreaded walls. This is what did it. This is what gave me silver hair.

All on the walls were so many hand drawn suns. They almost made their way up to the ceiling. I don't even know how she got up so high.

"Hannah! Why would you do this? Why would you draw so many suns?"

"Because, Mommy," she said with such an innocent voice. "You don't have any sons, you just have me. Daddy told me you wanted a son, so I gave you lots!"

I picked her up and gave her a hug. As a tear rolled down my cheek, I realized maybe silver hair wasn't all that bad. Maybe this was worth that silver hair.